Magical Stars
by Nicklas Davidsson
Summary: They had nearly destroyed the world in their struggle. As punishment wizardkind itself was driven to extinction. But there was one that could not be contained. Harry Potter, Master of Death rises as the last wizard. Now with malevolent aliens attacking earth and secret agencies trying to control it, Harry will find that the fight for good never truly ends...
1. Prologue: The Last Wizard

******Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter or Stargate i would probably be of on a sunny beach instead of rainy Sweden...**

**So this is my second attempt at a Harry Potter/Stargate Crossover. The last one was truly horrid and in the rare case that anyone read it I just have to say that this is different. In this story I am trying to avoid the Ancient!Harry, Goa'uld!Harry or Genius!Harry that one often see. Instead Harry is the last of his kind, caught in the conflict between ****earth and its enemies. I hope to provide a good story and therefore with no further due I give you, Magical Stars.**

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**Prologue: The Last Wizard**

Voldemort's fury had nearly lit fire to the world.

That was at least what Harry Potter thought as he stepped into the ruins of Hogwarts. The very stone of the castle was scorched and weeks after the battle the smell of brimstone was still strong. The wooden doors had been reduced to ash and beyond, in what had once been the Great Hall, was only rubble.

Despite that Harry stepped into the once magnificent room, his boots cracked against the small rocks under him as he walked. The place looked the same as it had done the day before, and all the days before that. Glass had been smashed out and melted, metal strewn around the room in puddles and the once magical ceiling had half collapsed, covering the head table.

Harry walked over to a wooden chair that amazingly had withstood the battle. It was a plain wooden stool, not even a real chair. Yet it was so much more to Harry. Around him all of Hogwarts had collapsed and yet this little, pathetic stool had managed to remain standing, untouched. He never sat in it, only admired it and drew his fingers along its smooth wood.

The broken state of the castle broke him a little bit more each time he came. Slowly it was killing him, reducing him to the same state as the castle. Shattered…

Yet what truly destroyed him was not the castle itself. No what really wrecked him was the lack of people wandering the halls and corridors, of children studying their newest spell.

Once upon a time it had been a place of education, happiness and understanding. No amount of structural destruction could have taken that away. The principles of Hogwarts would have stood long after the destruction of the school itself, or so it was thought.

Voldemort had ruined it all. He had pushed the borders of power far beyond that which living beings should and arrived in a blaze of power. Alone he had torn the wards from around the castle; alone he had slaughtered dozens of skilled wizards and witches. His armies had pushed into the school and killed any resistance, until Harry had arrived.

With his right wand wielding the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Ring on his left he had torn past death eaters and dark beasts. Blood had danced in the air around him as he ripped living beings apart with his power. Those he had saved had looked at him both in wonder and fear.

He had stepped out to face Voldemort alone. Hermione and Ron had been long since dead, their loyalty to had gotten them killed during the journey to find the Horcruxes. In the end they found them all, even the one inside Harry himself. Necromancy had been used to extract it and in the process the shard had possessed Ginny, forcing Harry to slay her in front of her family. Her head had rolled over to Arthur and onto his foot, never before had Harry apparated away so fast.

Alone against Voldemort he had stood proud, arrogant in his power. No man could defeat the Master of Death himself, Lord of the Deathly Hallows. In that myth he had placed his faith. A bad move when Voldemort used his incredible power to crush him, wandlessly and wordlessly.

Harry had reached across the realms of life and death and sought support from the dead themselves in one final assault on the dark lord. They had provided all he asked for. The power of the three hallows had not made him invincible on the battlefield but they had made him the most prominent necromancer ever to have lived.

Spirits rose against Voldemort and his armies. They lay waste to all in their path. Lucius Malfoy had been torn to shreds before Harry's eyes. There had not been enough left of him to identify. The younger Malfoy had tried to surrender but the death accepted no withdrawal he too had been killed violently.

Yet Voldemort had risen to greatness beyond any being in the world. As the spirits descended upon him he had simply _crushed _them. Their existence had been wiped from reality. To challenge him Harry had called upon even more dead, the Malfoys had risen again, this time as his servants.

But it made no difference. All that he had thrown against Voldemort was in vain. The dark lord had twisted magic like no man before. He struck down dragons with pure power and blew the towers of Hogwarts with storms before setting fire to the stones.

He had taken Harry to his knees.

But there cannot be power without consequence. Standing victorious amidst on the ground of Hogwarts Voldemort had ascended to godhood and tried to seize control over the world. Yet in one last attempt to stop him Harry had thrown his entire being into an attack, and along with Harry's existence came the very realm of death itself. For a fraction of a second there was no separation between the living and the dead and that same fraction Voldemort held unlimited power.

But they had enveloped themselves in powers far beyond their station. Others like them had come, seized control over the forces that he and Voldemort battled with and put them back in order. The two of them had been reduced to their bare souls and as punishment sent into death.

Fear of repetition had caused the godlike beings to sentence the entirety of the magical population to the same fate. Around the world wizards and witches had collapsed on the streets and in their home as their bodies gave out.

Yet he had risen, he Harry Potter, one of the reasons for the extermination of the magical world. Not even the beings that had tried to punish him could overcome his mastery of death. His entire life had been spent avoiding it.

He had awoken on the grounds of Hogwarts on September the sixth, 1997 with the knowledge that he was now alone, that he, Harry Potter, was now the last Wizard…

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**A short intro, the following chapters have more length and more story involved. This was just to give a background to what happened between Voldemort and Harry. **

**Reviews and constructive criticism is always welcome. **


	2. Chapter 1: Gringotts and Fangclaw

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter or Stargate i would probably be of on a sunny beach instead of rainy Sweden...**

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**Chapter 1: Gringotts and Fangclaw**

Spending a year in constant movement had left it toll, Harry decided as he rose from silk sheets, hours before any normal person would be awake.

He felt the soft form of last night's company molded into his side and moved as silently as possible to ensure she didn't wake as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. The sun had not even shown itself in the sky and the only source of light Harry had was the rays of moonlight that snuck through the curtains.

The girl behind him shifted around and Harry cast a glance at her. Brown bushy hair was sprawled on the bed and her bronze skin seemed to glitter. From what he remembered she was a student of art at a local University, he had met her at a local café where she spent her spare hours working. A smile, a movie and a lot of charm had landed her here.

He thought her name was Alisha but it could probably be Alice, Alicia or something like that. It didn't really matter; he wouldn't stick around for long enough for him to have any use of the name. As soon as he had grabbed something to eat and decided upon his next stop he would be gone with the wind.

It was not a least bit a gentleman act but she had held no expectations for him to stick around, that was one of the reasons he was even comfortable doing this. The last thing he wanted was to hurt more people.

At times he had thought of exiling himself somewhere unpopulated, like Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, but he knew that his already fragile psyche would shatter at too much time spent alone. With every person he had ever known dead, these brief respites were all the company he had.

He raised himself from the bed and reached around on the floor, trying to find his cloathes. His pants were abandoned at the side of the bed, his shirt and jacket was thrown over a couch and for some reason his shoes were in two different corners of the room.

"Crazy girl" he whispered into "Alisha's" ear was he finally got dressed and leaned down beside her, stroking her hair. He could feel the heavy weight of his holly and phoenix feather wand as he drew it from within his leather jacket.

"_Constant vigilance!" _as Moody always said.

"I'm really sorry about this…" and he was. But he could not leave traces behind, if anyone found out that any of the wizards had survived, he would be the target of a manhunt rivaling the one he had suffered under Voldemort's rule and he had been running for too long. It was best for both him and her that she forgot all about him.

"_Obliviate"_

* * *

Diagon Alley was a graveyard.

When he had first arrived here after the final battle the stench of rotten flesh had forced him to his knees. It had taken all his willpower to conjure a bubble around his head to clear out the air. Corpses had been strewn around every corner of the ally; every store had its owner lying in a puddle of their own bodily fluids.

He had seen dead before but it had been the result of battle. Diagon had been a massacre of innocent, of peaceful children, parents and normal civilians, people who had nothing to do with the war that had eventually doomed them.

It had taken hours to gather the bodies and eventually burn the pile into a mass of ashes. The remains he had sent into the air and the wind had taken it south. There was little else he could have done for the poor souls he and Voldemort had sentenced to death.

Today he was not here to reminisce about the lost however. There was a greater project which he needed to work on today, something which had kept him occupied for nearly a month.

At the end of the northern section of Diagon Alley lay a giant white building, it was the only building with signs of structural damage in sight, the only building that had taken part in the war. Harry could fondly remember grasping the scales of a dragon and flying to freedom with his friends at his back.

That had been before the dark periods, before desperation had driven them apart. The Horcrux kept within had led them into realms of magic best left forgotten. Necromancy had been one of the kinder areas of magic they had explored.

Shaking his head, trying to clear his head from the memories, Harry ascended the stairs to his destination.

_Gringotts_

The building had stood for centuries as a bastion for the British goblins and later as the hoarding place of their riches. Wizards had conquered it during one of the more bloody rebellions and converted it into their bank and the goblins into their servants.

When he came here last time, Harry had hoped, despite the fact that they would kill him on sight, that the goblins would have been spared the wizard's fate. It would not have been fair to punish the goblins for something they had little to do with.

And his hope had been rewarded. Entering Gringotts for the first time he had found it clean, it was as empty as the rest of the alley but there had been no corpses to burn, instead there had only been a mass of papers strewed around the desks that occupied the entrance, work simply abandoned. He had searched every corner of the bank he could get into, which in fact had been every corner of the bank; there had not been a locked door in all of Gringotts, except for the vaults of course.

The vaults were the reason he was here, one vault in particular.

"_Ere' you are Arry, vault 687…"_

The Potter family vault, passed down in the family for a half millennia. Once upon a time he had a key to the place but the years had strewn his possessions across great Britain and his key had landed in the care of Molly Weasley. She had perished during the battle of Hogwarts and the location of his key had been lost with her.

When he had discovered Gringotts emptied he had feared that the goblins had taken the gold with them, it would be logical considering their enjoyment riches. But instead he found the vaults still sealed and after breaking into one of the minimal security ones found a decent pile of money still present. Perhaps they were in too much a hurry to care what they brought with them, or perhaps they thought that with the wizards gone it was essentially worthless.

Why they left it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was that he could get into his vault and find its content still there. And he had broken into Gringotts once already, how hard could it be the second time?

Hard, the last time he had a goblin to unseal Bellatrix vault. He had tried to unseal the doors with a myriad of different spells, from using the basic _Alohomora _to blasting a hole in the vault with controlled fiendfyre.

Nothing had worked, he had spent countless hours, using every possible idea he could come up with to penetrate the metal door. He had left, defeated, angry and tiered.

Days had passed and he had tried to forget all about Gringotts and the Vault. Until one day, when walking through the ruins of Hogwarts an idea had struck him. The halls of the school might have been damaged, but several sections still stood firm and probably would for decades. One such section could probably give him a solution to most of his problems, the library.

Hermione had once told him that the Hogwarts library was the greatest in Europe, that nearly millennia of magic had made it as close to self-aware places could be. Surprisingly the library shared functions with the Room of Requirement. It would try to supply the knowledge that the student sought. Different from the Room however was the fact that the library had a "teacher's responsibility".

In other words, it kept knowledge deemed unsafe from student unable to handle them; some knowledge was even removed if the school considered it too dangerous to be in the hands of youth. The library could "feel" what had occurred to the wizarding population and done all it could to ensure that the knowledge kept within wasn't lost forever, revealed everything. Harry had never realized the sheer size of the library before he saw it complete.

He had scoured the shelves for weeks, studying every piece of knowledge that could help him. Yet it had given him no definite answer, no absolute solution. Those who tried to rob Gringotts rarely published their work. So instead he boiled it down to its base elements, the pure magical theory behind magical protection.

Such an endeavor didn't just take a day however. Months had been spent getting to a moment where he thought he could actually open the damned thing. He had even been forced to travel to France once, in search of a particular tome stored at Beauxbaton Academy of Magic. With no international border control stopping him he had simply apparated into the middle of Paris, it was easy living with no rules.

And now, over half a year since he started the project he was finally ready to put his plans and theories to the test.

The overall idea behind the Gringotts Vaults, were from what Harry had deduced, to create a field of magical energies covering the door. They were based on very specific goblin magic. When a goblin came into contact with the door he would connect to the warding energies and using only motion, pull them temporarily down.

When they were down the door functioned as any normal door, the locks were a bit more advanced than normal but a study of locksmithing had prepared him for that. A self-made unlocking spell would solve the issue as long as he got the wards down.

The way he was going to do this was simple; a key principle of magic was that, magical energies which operated on the same same frequency would automatically meld together. It was a key principle is combinational spells and protective warding. Unless they melded together a person could rip down each ward independently with pure force. When you instead merged wards together their strength was added together making it eventually impossible to remove it without knowledge of the specific wards.

Harry's plan consisted of creating a temporary shield around himself which would merge perfectly with the one already in place on his vault door, after that he would destroy his own shield and the one on the door should follow. It was not an easy task, the very idea would have been impossible if he hadn't had unrestricted access to the Department of Mysteries and the Gringotts Archives.

But before implementing his advanced magical research there was one thing he had to do.

That god forsaken cart trip…

* * *

Harry could not help but gape as the giant vault door swung open.

It had actually worked, months of advanced spellwork and research had paid off exactly as he wanted it to do, a plan of his actually worked perfectly. That was certainly a first.

Now what to do?

He had never really pondered what he would do once he actually got into the vault itself. The money scattered about was of little use and he could not risk trading it in, a large sum of wizard money could garner a lot of attention from people he would rather avoid, government and such. He already risked himself by riding around on Sirius old motorbike during some nights. Add that there was an abundance of muggle money at the desks of Gringotts there was little point in doing anything with the coins.

But he couldn't just leave it here, this was his family's fortune, the last thing he had to remind him of his parents. He picked up one of the coins and swirled it between his fingers, admiring the golden dragon engraved on the surface. He pocketed the coin and turned around. There was not much he could do, a single coin would serve as a souvenir and the rest would simply have to be buried here along with the other vaults riches.

He could technically break into any vault he wanted now that he was here. He knew that the deeper vaults contained more than just money, the old purebloods had liked to bath in jewels and exotic treasures. He wondered if Voldemort had a vault somewhere here, or Dumbledore. He could probably check the archives.

He turned around and closed the vault door behind him. The shielding around the door was permanently gone; he'd be able to come back whenever he wanted.

Suddenly something tackled him from behind. His knees hit the stone floor and he felt pain shooting up his legs. For a moment he feared that the impact had shattered his kneecaps but as the rest of his body crashed into the ground and the pressure moved to it he could feel his legs returning to normal.

Ignoring the remnants of the pain he rolled sideways, wandlessly summoning his wand to his hand and readying himself for burying his assailant in fire. The Elder Wand longed for battle, craved blood. He had feed it too much during the war, it was borderline sentient and had adapted to the violence he constantly involved himself in.

But his attacker was still latched on to his back and as he rolled Harry could feel clawed hands grasping his throat. The claws were sharp and he realized they were about to draw blood.

It a fit of anger he _pushed _a wave of raw magical power around himself, a technique easily repelled by a wizard, but it worked like a charm on the goblin. The shockwave send whatever was attacking him flying into a wall by the sound of the crash and Harry swirled around, the Elder Wand glowing with unreleased energy.

The light from the wand-tip shone upon the attacker and Harry blinked as he saw a short, stubby goblin groan on the floor. Blood was leaking from his skull and staining an already dirty linen shirt.

He had been here dozens of times; he had even searched the bank for any tip where the goblins could have gone, to no avail. He had theorized they had dug themselves deeper into the earth, ancient legends said that it was from near the planets core the goblins had first made their civilization.

He forced his raging emotions to the side, questioning the goblin would be much more satisfactory than killing him.

The goblin tried to raise itself from the ground, but Harry stepped over and pushed his right foot in the midst of its chest. Large black eyes shore with fear as the goblin looked up at him from the ground and Harry thought he saw panic when it noticed the wand still in Harry's hand.

"Impossible" the words came out as a silent croak, it could not be easy to talk with pressure being exerted upon its chest and he pulled the foot back a little, giving the goblin room to breathe.

"You're all dead…" From the sound of the goblin's voice Harry assumed it was a male, not that he had ever met a female goblin. It let out a series of deep rasps that Harry recognized as Gobbledegook, the goblin language.

"You are you?" Harry finally growled out. He felt magic pump in his veins, desperate to be released, to make the goblin talk. He pushed it down; magic had to be the controlled factor, not the controller.

The goblin rasped out something inconceivable and Harry pushed his foot back down on the goblin's chest, hard.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The goblin blinked in what Harry assumed to be surprise. It peered up at him from his position and its eyes widened even further as it noticed the lightning bolt scar that peaked out behind his hair.

"Harry Potter?" Either it didn't understand him, which was unlikely or it was extremely surprised at seeing a wizard alive and well.

"No, that my name, tell me your name goblin. Before I force it out of you." Years ago he would never have thought about threatening another living being but war had stripped respect for his enemies from him. Countless death eaters had found themselves screaming for mercy during questioning, screaming as their minds and bodies were torn apart by Harry's fury. Ginny had hated it; Hermione had left him because of it, only Ron had accepted the necessity.

"Fangclaw" the goblin croaked out, "I am Fangclaw."

Harry was about to question the goblin further, there was a lot of question rolling through his mind, but he was distracted by the tickle of blood leaking out of the goblin's mouth. Another thing he learned during the war was to never underestimate an injury. Even the smallest cut could kill a person in the end and this was more than a small cut.

He rolled the wand between his fingers before muttering letting out a small burst of red magic. The goblin slumped unconscious before him and he picked up the stunned body with another wave of the magical stick. Better treat the guy at the Cauldron than here, there were beds and a lot lesser chance of getting jumped out of a dark corner.

Harry set down the goblin in the cart and seated himself in it as well. He really hated these damned carts.

* * *

The goblin stirred, he had been lucky Harry decided to heal his wounds instead of continuing with the initial plan of interrogation. He would most defiantly have bleed out on the stone floor before vault 687. Even if he hadn't the cerebral hemorrhage that Harry's shockwave had caused would have made him a little more than a vegetable.

Now he was as close to healed as Harry could make him, there were still minor injuries and a few broken ribs but nothing fatal. The blood stained tunic and pants had been removed and Harry had transfigured one of the sheets into a long robe for the goblin to wear. He had lain the unconscious goblin in one of the larger rooms at the cauldron.

It had also proven his theory correct, _Fangclaw _was a male goblin.

"Wake up"

The goblin's eyes opened slowly, used to darker environment it seem to take a while for him to adjust to the light from the window looking out over muggle London.

"Fangclaw, wake up!" Harry growled threateningly. "I've got questions for you."

At the sound of his name the goblin snapped out of his daze and blinked rapidly. Harry saw the panic rise in his eyes as he realized where he was. That was good; fear was a useful tool when needing to extract information.

"I know you speak English, I heard it down among the vaults. I also don't have any qualms about torturing you if you don't answer my questions." Harry said it with to emotions in his voice as he stared down at the goblin. It was the truth after all, he didn't like inflicting pain but this creature had attacked him without warning. He had a light bruise on his throat where the goblin's claws had dug in.

"Please." Fangclaw whispered out, "Please, I am sorry, so sorry." He was scared beyond belief. "I just panicked."

"When you saw me?" Harry asked.

The goblin only nodded as response, his words seemed caught in his gullet.

"Well I too was surprised to see you, I must admit." Harry started. "I've spent countless hours among the vaults and at Gringotts in general and your kind has been missing. You're the first goblin I've seen in months."

"We're…" Fangclaw paused, he had been about to say something he shouldn't. Harry swirled his wand in his hand, subtly, but enough for Fangclaw to notice it.

"We're hidden, what's rest of us that is, far below the surface, in our ancient cities." So the tales were true, goblins really did come from beneath the surface of the planet. But another part of the goblin's information was more interesting.

"What do you mean, _what's left of us_?"

The goblin peered at him from his position on the bed. Its gaze narrowed.

"You know wizard, do not play foolish, your kind has been struck down as well. Your precious wands couldn't protect you from divine fury could it?" Was the goblin really trying to taunt him? And divine fury? He wondered how much the goblin could actually know about what had transpired.

"Well I'm here. My wand has served me quite well." Both his wands had. "What happened to your people?"

The goblin growled at him but Harry just tightened his stare, Fangclaw was in no position to generate any threat, quite the opposite actually.

"Entire castes died out, the priests, guardians, brokers, so many just fell. Even the children assigned were wiped out." He finally spat out.

Harry knew very little about the goblin caste system but he didn't really need the knowledge to deduce what really had happened. Those goblins with an affinity for magic had suffered the same fate as the wizards. Only the goblins didn't separate themselves from each other based on of they were magical or not.

"You better release me wizard. Someone will come for me, trust me. When they find that I have been missing for too long they will send out a search party." Empty threats.

"I've been around Gringotts dozens of times and I've not seen a single one of your kind. I hardly doubt there's going to be a goblin rescue unit out looking for you." The goblin smiled sharp teeth yellow.

"Your mistake wizard" Harry ignored the statement.

"How'd you find me? As I said I've been around before and there has not been a goblin in sight."

"You broke into our vaults." The goblin said as if it explained everything. When he saw that Harry was expecting more he rolled his eyes. "You triggered our system of alarm. When you removed the shielding over the vault it notified us. I was sent to see what was happening."

"You have an alarm system reaching down into your old cities?" Harry asked with disbelief.

Fangclaw only nodded again before leaning back into the bed.

"Ey you," Harry said and shook the goblin violently. "I'm not done with you yet."

"I have a question first."

Harry laughed, a hollow, taunting laughter. "You are in no position to make demands. I could have you killed whenever I want."

The goblin had the nerve to smile even further. "That does not sound like the Mr. Potter the world has heard so much about." So he _had _recognized the scar on his forehead.

"There is a lot of things the world hasn't heard about…"

"True" the goblin whispered out. "Very true, your survival would be one of them, no?"

For a moment Harry just peered at the goblin. That was in all likelihood that the damned creature wanted to talk about in the first place. Underestimating the intelligence of the goblins was a rookie move, real rookie. One should never really underestimate their prisoner. Now the goblin had him right where he wanted.

If he refused to answer he showed weakness, instability that the goblin might be able to use against him. If he did answer the goblin would get the information he wanted and possible be able to use that information against him as well.

"My survival…"

_Bang!_

Harry froze. Something or someone had just blasted their way into the Cauldron. He glared down at the goblin, whose smile had grown as big as it possible could. His eyes shone with pure joy.

"Told you, wizard."

Harry snarled and pulled the goblin up by his neck and threw him between the door and himself.

"My survival, goblin, is not the question here." Harry whispered quietly. "Yours is, whoever your friends are, I assure you, they are no match for me. If they by some miracle take me down, I promise you, I'll take you down with me."

"Good luck with that, Mr. Potter."

He heard footsteps ascending the stairs, followed by another _bang._ They were not the most stealthy of rescuers. That unfortunately meant that they probably brought a lot of firepower with them, most likely heavy crossbows and axes. Goblin weapons could be dangerous, at time they could pierce magical shield like butter. Gryffindor's sword was a prime example of their craftsmanship.

The footsteps approached the door and Harry raised his want, Fangclaw still between him and the door.

There was scraping, whispers and more footsteps. Someone continued down the hallway.

He let loose a blast of magical fire. It was better to strike first a lot more often than it was striking last.

It incinerated the door in less than a second and he followed up with two more streams of deadly magic. He was firing blind, smoke from his spells clouded his sight and hopefully it did the same to the goblins.

He readied himself for another blast of magic, the power burned underneath his skin, waiting to be released and wielded against his enemies.

But he was distracted by the arrival of a small metal cylinder that flew through the doorway. He stared at it for a second before realizing what it was.

"Oh fuck…"

And the world exploded in white.

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**After spending hours cleaning out my e-mail I have finally had the time to put the finishing touch to the chapter. The amazing response to the first chapter was really appreciated. As a side note I am at the current moment looking for someone to beta-read my chapters before I publish them here. If anyone is interested throw me a PM. I'm looking for someone to check basic writing structure and spelling that I might have missed, English is not my first language. It would also be rather pleasant to have someone other than my girlfriend to bounce ideas of. **

**As always, reviews and constructive criticism is always appreciated... **


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